ce towards
her, to break down his shyness; she even went so far as to reproach him
a little for having a false idea of her.

Nejdanov listened to her, gazed at her arms, her shoulders, and from
time to time cast a look at her rosy lips and her unruly, massive curls.
His replies were brief at first; he felt a curious pressure in his
throat and chest, but by degrees this sensation gave way to another,
just as disturbing, but not devoid of a certain sweetness.... He was
surprised that such a beautiful aristocratic lady of important position
should take the trouble to interest herself in him, a simple student,
and not only interest herself, but flirt with him a little besides. He
wondered, but could not make out her object in doing so. To tell the
truth, he was little concerned about the object. Madame Sipiagina went
on to speak of Kolia, and assured Nejdanov that she wished to become
better acquainted with him only so that she might talk to him seriously
about her son, get to know his views on the education of Russian
children. It might have seemed a little curious that such a wish should
have come upon her so suddenly, but the root of the matter did not lie
in what Valentina Mihailovna had said. She had been seized by a wave of
sensuousness, a desire to conquer and bring to her feet this rebellious
young man.

Here it is necessary to go back a little. Valentina Mihailovna was
the daughter of a general who had been neither over-wise nor
over-industrious in his life. He had received only one star and a
buckle as a reward for fifty years' service. She was a Little Russian,
intriguing and sly, endowed, like many of her countrywomen, with a very
simple and even stupid exterior, from which she knew how to extract the
maximum of advantage. Valentina Mihailovna's parents were not rich, but
they had managed to educate her at the Smolny Convent, where, although
considered a republican, she was always in the foreground and very well
treated on account of her excellent behaviour and industriousness. On
leaving the convent she settled with her mother (her brother had gone
into the country, and her father, the general with the star and buckle,
had died) in a very clean, but extremely chilly, apartment, in which you
could see your own breath as you talked. Valentina Mihailovna used to
make fun of it and declare it was like being in church. She was very
brave in bearing with all the discomforts of a poor, pinched existence,
having a wo